Fly From the Inside
by Lady Wright
Summary: A little one-shot I did about a month or so ago. / When Jim Kirk is sent to the planet Neryn, he's faced with a group of very stubborn and very stationary aliens. / Star Trek XI


Title: Fly From the Inside

Fandom: Star Trek XI

Pairing: None

Rating: PG-13 for language

Word Count: ~10,077

Summary: When Jim Kirk is sent to the planet Neryn, he's faced with a group of very stubborn and very stationary aliens. He's also faced with the difficult task of figuring out a way to get them to overcome their illogical ways and join the Federation.

* * *

Fly From the Inside

James T. Kirk was great at a lot of things, but one thing he was not so great at was subtlety. The first time Jim displayed an interest in another species' delegates ("Well, hello there, you beautiful little Rurian." Which may have made things worse, as they were rather sensitive about their height), Uhura, completely horror-stricken, took it upon herself to inform the captain that putting 'moves' on a very high up from a planet that the Federation was looking to include was a very bad idea. Not in so many words – but her point was made. From then on, Jim monitored himself, allowing Spock to take over whenever he felt that he couldn't control his big head.

He didn't really mind; they'd warmed up to each other over the past few months, coming together quite nicely after the Nero incident. But hey – near death can do that to people.

On this particular day, the subject was Neryn, a class M planet with perfectly humanoid aliens. Nerynians had a myriad of appearances – some with strange colored hair or strangely colored skin – but they all had one thing in common; tattoos ran from below their left eye, down their left arms, and wrapped around their wrist. The tattoos were becoming, beautiful even, swirling within each other and coming together in a design that would entrance any artist.

Jim, after reassuring everyone that he would not call the Nerynians anything perverse, sat down in his command chair and leaned forward. The sight coming from the large view-screen was directly in front of them_. _The planet Neryn was extremely large for being M-class; the _Enterprise_, in all its glory of 2,543 feet, was merely a speck compared to it. At the very least, when compared to Earth, it could have been considered a small insect rather than a fleck of dust.

"Uhura, open a channel to the planet, please and thank you." The bridge was so used to his cocky tone, that they weren't sure that he had any setting other than completely confident. His hands folded in his lap as he leaned back, awaiting her response.

Uhura was beautiful; every time he looked at her, she seemed to get more so. But then, every time he looked at her, he could almost feel the negative energy coming from both her _and _Spock. Who knew that a Vulcan could get so jealous? Of course, if Jim were to ask him about it, he would simply respond with 'Jealousy is an emotion. An unwarranted one in this case, as Lieutenant Uhura is not attracted to you.' Shit, though, Spock couldn't be more right. For some reason, Uhura seemed everything _but _attracted to him. How strange.

"Yes sir," she replied, her fingers dashing across her console expertly. After a moment though, she turned in her chair, eyebrows furrowed. "Captain, it's…strange. They're receiving our request, but they aren't replying."

That _was_ weird. "Are you sure they're receiving?" If they were, and weren't replying, then should heinterpret them as hostile? He certainly could, what other reason would they have for not responding?

"Positive, sir," she told him, turning back to the console and tapping on it a few more times. Watching her was easy; following what she was actually doing was not. Her fingers flew so fast that they almost seemed a blur. A romanticized image, as they were not really blurred, but why not?

"Strange," Spock said, more to himself than anyone on the bridge. No one was really used to Spock addressing them straight on, so it wasn't really weird that he was talking to himself. The half-Vulcan had a kind of aura that informed the people around him that he preferred to be on his own, anyway.

"Have any hypotheses, Mr. Spock?" Jim asked, spinning around to look at his first officer. The chair moved fluidly, wherever he told it to turn to; _I love this chair, _Jim thought to himself happily. _It's so fucking comfortable!_

Spock looked him straight in the eye, and Jim was the only one (besides Uhura) who didn't flinch away when he did so. "Nerynians are usually accommodating. They have not been known to act rudely, or ill-mannered towards another species before." But, for one of the first times since he'd met him, Spock sounded slightly bereft in confidence. It was just a slight nuance to his voice, but Jim picked up on it immediately.

"Think they're having communication problems?" He wondered. It was possible, but not likely.

"It is improbable. Lieutenant Uhura informed us that they were receiving the message; perhaps they have been otherwise compromised." Otherwise compromised. In other words:

"An attack?"

"It is more likely." The half-Vulcan nodded and blinked once before turning back to his station. "I suggest sending a landing party to the planet to observe." He paused, doing something, but Kirk couldn't actually tell what it was. "No strange energy signatures are coming from the planet either; it is safe to assume that nuclear warfare is not part of this attack, if there is one."

"What a relief, Spock. I think I can do without having my imprint on a wall for today." Jim nodded, standing from his chair. "Alright, Uhura, comm McCoy and let him know to meet us in the transporter room. Spock, come with me. Sulu, you have the con."

"Yes sir," Sulu nodded, as Spock stood and followed Kirk to the turbo lift. Everyone on the bridge seemed focused on what they were doing, their jobs, but they did strain their ears to hear if anything important was being said.

"Captain, regulation states that we beam three security officers down with us-"

"I know, Spock," Jim smiled. "Also, we need to arm ourselves, just in case, right?" His smile turned into more of a cocky grin. "Don't worry, I understand regulations perfectly." _Almost, anyway_, he corrected.

His first officer cocked an eyebrow at him. If he knew regulation so well, then should he not be able to follow it? But, that was just the way Jim Kirk was. Leap before you look – speak before you think.

* * *

McCoy, Spock, Jim, Lieutenant Tamura, Lieutenant Commander Grey, and Lieutenant Perry stepped onto the beaming dais. They were fully equipped, and though McCoy could have thought of better ways to get to the surface of the planet, Jim forced him to risk his molecules. They could easily be scattered and lost in the middle of beaming, but no, Jim was too lazy to take a goddamn shuttle.

Scotty nodded to them slightly before activating the transporter, and with the familiar tingling sensation of being dematerializing, they were gone.

The surface of Neryn was so similar to Earth that Jim almost forgot he was on an alien planet. He looked around, doing a 360 while Spock studied his tricorder. It only took a moment to find life-signs, and a moment more to track where they were coming from. They started forward, knowing that the capital was not too far away, a little nervous about what they would find there.

Sulu probably would have been a good addition to the away party as well. All kinds of flowers and trees and grass that Kirk had never seen before sprouted from the ground. The prettiest of them Spock referred to as a Paiony. Jim bent down to get a better look at it before sneezing harshly and McCoy pulled him back up by the scruff of his collar. ("Dammit, boy, is there anything you _aren't _allergic to?") They continued walking for what seemed like forever to Jim. They weren't exactly the most talkative bunch, so Jim was forced to either keep himself company in his mind, or elicit some kind of form of speech from Bones. Whether it was a curse or a normally strung together sentence, he didn't really care; he just needed something other than pure _silence_.

When they arrived, Jim let out a tiny sigh of relief. The capital was not, at least, burning down. It looked pretty normal, actually. Tall buildings reached up to the sky, hovercrafts sped down the streets, Nerynians held hands, and talked, and laughed; it was really just like Earth. Jim smirked, moving to walk forward, but something strong caught his wrist in a vice-grip. Pain shot up that arm, settled in the back of his neck, and stayed there.

"The hell?" He turned around, saw Spock holding his arm. "What?" He looked pointedly at Spock's arm, but the Vulcan only loosened his grip. It didn't make it any easier for Kirk to get out, Vulcan's were super-strong.

"Captain, that is not the capital." His first officer replied. He didn't need to look down at his tricorder to realize this, he was just naturally perceptive. Though, perhaps it was due to the fact that Jim was naturally unperceptive, it was difficult to tell at such an early stage in his life. He was, after all, only twenty-six, and what could anyone expect from a cocky, young Starfleet captain? His rashness was a plus, but it could also be a negative in certain situations.

"What are you talking about, Spock?" Jim turned back to look and saw the same scene as before. "It sure looks like the capital." But Jim knew better than to trust his own judgment over Spock's. As he was about to turn, his Chief Medical Officer spoke up.

McCoy sighed. "Look again, Jim."

Jim did as he was told, turning again to look at the city. Still tall buildings, 'crafts, Nerynians. "I don't…" He squinted, looking closer. One of the edges of the building seemed obscured. "What is that?" Spock let go of his arm, and he wandered a bit closer. He went closer, closer, (out of the corner of his eye, he saw the security teams' hands move towards their phasers) until he touched the building, saw it shiver under his touch. "A hologram?" He exclaimed, jumping back. That was certainly unexpected; Jim was positive he heard Spock say that life-forms were in this area, but how could a race live in holograms?

He looked back at Spock and McCoy, who were both looking down at their tricorders. "I dunno, Jim," McCoy started. "I'm getting life-signs, but…" The doctor wasn't usually wrong about things; the first officer even less-so. Jim was going to assume that there were just variables they hadn't come across yet. It happened often enough.

"Then it would be safe to assume that the life-signs are coming from elsewhere." The statement kind of bulldozed through the silence. Jim blinked a few times and then went over what Spock had said in his mind. He did say 'elsewhere', so was he claiming that he had been wrong earlier? An excitement came onto Kirk. The first officer had never, _ever _admitted to being wrong before; it almost felt like history in the making.

"Where else would they be?" McCoy asked, frazzled. "They're coming from right in front…of…underground?" He wondered as he looked at the half-Vulcan, whose attention was preoccupied by the earth beneath their feet. For some reason, the situation felt half-familiar, and a sense of déjà vu swept over Jim. He walked back over to his first and second officers, eyebrows scrunched together.

Spock was looking downward, and then, after a moment, knelt down and felt the soil. "It is the most logical solution. That is, unless, they are above us." They all looked to the skies, saw nothing, and directed their attention back towards the ground. The long fingered hand of the half-Vulcan pried at it for a few more moments, then looked at his tricorder again, pressing a button before nodding to himself and going back to feeling the dirt. Jim wasn't sure how feeling the ground was going to help their predicament, but he didn't say anything. Spock was usually right about the strangest things.

"How do we get underground?" Jim asked, bending down, too. "How do we…?" A million images ran through his mind. Out of them, digging seemed the least logical, but the most practical. He was all ready to strip off his shirt and comm the ship for a shovel when Spock interrupted him.

"We are being scanned." Spock said suddenly, looking at his tricorder for the thousandth time that day.

"You mean they _just_ realized that we're here?" McCoy asked sardonically. "What an intelligent bunch." Bones was usually sarcastic and mean, but it probably _wasn't _a good idea to insult an alien race when they were hiding, perhaps waiting to ambush them.

"They could very well be occupied with other things, Doctor. If they _are _under attack, that is." Spock told him, not diverting his attention from the thing in his hand. Leonard grumbled something under his breath and crossed his arms, looked at Jim. The captain blinked a few times at his friend before standing and copying his pose, folding his arms.

"What do you think?" McCoy asked, ignoring the childish ploy. He was pretty used to Jim acting like a twelve year old by that point. Actually, if had to put an age to the man, it'd be closer to toddler status.

"I don't know, Bones. I mean, Spock's idea is _logical_," he joked. "But if they were under attack, don't you think there would be…I dunno…casualties, burning buildings, ruined cities?" He ran a hand through his hair. "This is too weird. Why couldn't they just be on the surface, with information readily accessible or something? Why does everyone always have to make it hard?" But it was a stupid question, nothing was ever easy. _Ever. _

"Probably some kind of Karma out to get you," McCoy told him. "About time." Jim pouted; that sounded slightly resentful to him. Bones leaned back on the heels of his shoes and uncrossed his arms, a playing smirk on his lips.

"Karma? If anything, Karma should be on my side. I did, you know, save Earth." Jim Kirk gave his friend a cocky grin, and copied the doctor's posture again, leaning back on his boots, too.

"Ok, and what about that time, in the Academy,-"

"Let's not talk about the Academy, Bones, that was the past. I'm sure Karma knows this."

"My ass," McCoy spat back, grinning fully now. Jim was readying a comeback when Spock interrupted them.

"Gentlemen," Spock started, and they all looked at him, and then followed his line of sight. If Spock was interested in something, it was probably worth being interested in.

"Holy shit," Jim muttered, walking towards the staircase which, one could only guess, lead to where the Nerynians were. "Let's go," he told them, speed-walking towards it. McCoy sighed harshly but followed nonetheless, and the rest of the party followed after him.

"Jim, be careful, don't trip. If you start sneezing, or break out in hives, let me know. Lord knows that you could easily be allergic to everything down here." Leonard told him as it grew darker. The stairway was too small to fit two people side by side, but it was comfortable enough for one, and they let their hands feel the sides to steady them. The walls were brick, or some kind of stone at least, and water dribbled down slowly, pooling at their feet; the only reason Jim knew this was because he could hear the small splashes echo throughout the small area.

" Whatever, Bones," Jim muttered. Finally, after a few more steps, darkness took them over completely. Even when Jim widened his eyes completely, there was nothing to see. There was only the sound of breathing, dripping water, and their steps. It was, essentially, really creepy.

Jim rolled his eyes, though it didn't really have any effect, seeing as no one was able to see him. "Wait…what's this?" A stone or some kind of large button was under his hand. Before anyone could tell him not to, he pressed it, and light filled the stairway. They all blinked, eyes readjusting. "Whoa," Jim grumbled, stumbling forward. At the end of the stairs was a door, Jim pushed against it harshly, yet it refused to budge. "Hello?" He called out. "Is there a password or something? Open Sesame! Uhh…Purple Kangaroo! Lollipops?"

Spock was suddenly behind him, and Jim turned on his side so that his first officer could get to the door. They squeezed past each other, and Spock placed a hand on the door. "It is made of a kind of mineral not indigenous to Earth," he surmised. He felt it, for what, Jim wasn't sure. His hand, after a moment, stopped somewhere in the middle of the door. He pulled his bent arm back quickly, meaning to exert maximum pressure on its weakest point, but stopped before he could do so, feeling something hard connect with his elbow. A crack! resounded through the small hallway, and he pivoted on his heel.

Jim slumped against McCoy, holding his bleeding nose. "Jesus fucking Christ, Spock." McCoy growled. "You broke his nose!" The doctor in Bones made him worried, the 'He-probably-deserves-it' part of him made him want to chuckle a little. But he was Jim's friend, and being kind came before being mean, especially when he was in pain.

"Captain, are you alright?" Spock asked, actually sounding a tad worried. It was his fault, after all, that Jim's nose was broken. He was about to kneel down and try to assist the doctor when Jim waved his hand at his first officer.

"Ye-Yeah, Spock, I'm cool. Just…do whatever you were doing," he said, steadily as he could.

"This'll hurt," McCoy told Jim, swatting his hand away from the bridge of his nose. Behind them, the three security guards held back their chuckles. The first officer's lips were pursed, they could only guess in remorse, or worry. Dr. McCoy positioned his fingers lightly upon Jim's nose before, suddenly, snapping it back into place.

"Fuuuck," Jim whined, a tear falling from the pain. "Ouchies, Bones." He tenderly went to touch his poor, abused nose, but McCoy refused to let him, swatting his hand away again. Jim knew he did it out of love, because Jim would probably only end up breaking it again, but irritation flitted through his veins.

"I would advise anyone behind me to be an adequate distance from me whilst I attempt to break down the door." Spock told them, satisfied that his captain was OK. He turned around, positioned his hand again, and snapped it back and jabbed his palm against the weak point harshly. The door shook a little, but didn't crumble. He attempted it again. A crack this time. As he positioned his hand a third time, the door opened, sliding to the right and revealing a long-haired woman. Spock lowered his arm, and Jim shot up.

"Hello, miss. My name is – ow, Bones." He moaned as McCoy elbowed him in the side. "Haven't I been elbowed enough today?" It was a rhetorical question, really, but if he knew Bones (and he knew Bones), then his friend would have a nice, sarcastic reply.

"Stop doing things to deserve it, then." McCoy told him, glaring jokingly. He really couldn't be angry or annoyed at Kirk, not after he was just elbowed in the face by a very strong Vulcan. Vulcans, actually, had a strength few knew about. The door Spock had been working at had to have been made of super strong minerals for it to not break under the first blow.

"What'd I do?" Jim asked, looking at him. McCoy just glared at him some more. Really, Jim could probably stand to go without flirting for ten minutes. It would be hard for the Iowan, but he could probably manage it.

The woman giggled a little. "My name is Eren," she told them. "You must be the humans – and look, a Vulcan – from the Federation. Please come in." She stepped to the side, and the six of them walked in aware. The area was dimly lit, but lit well enough that they could see everything; Spock, though, would have been able to see regardless of the light. A Vulcan's vision was superb compared to a human's.

The room was rather small. It couldn't have been more than twenty feet in diameter, and Kirk briefly wondered if the Nerynians had a thing against large, open spaces. It would make sense that they were underground instead of above ground, but he didn't dwell on it too long, as they weren't there for too long. Eren lead them through another door, this time leading to a much larger, and much better lit room. It too, like the previous room and the staircase, was built with some kind of stone. Along with the lighting, accomplished entirely by fire, it had a middle-age feel. Jim almost felt like he should be wearing chain mail, sitting atop a horse, a sword in one hand, pretty girl in the other. She'd be blonde, most certainly, like Sleeping Beauty, and her thin clothing would acce-

"Through here is the High Council. They will be happy to speak with you," She told them, interrupting Kirk's daydreaming and motioning towards the door. They all walked forward, determined to get some kind of information out of the Council. If there was a good reason, they certainly hadn't heard of it yet, and the six of them were very inclined to hear the Nerynian's excuses. Being dragged down into a damp, dark underground wasn't exactly favorable.

The first thing Jim noticed when he walked through was a long table, slightly elevated, with six Nerynians sitting behind it. They ranged in age, from young adult-hood to the elderly. The one in the middle, presumably the Head, stood first. His long, white hair flowed to his waist; his dark blue skin was dulled by the unnatural light in the room. Without speaking, he seemed to demand attention. It was his aura, Kirk recognized, not unlike that of a Starfleet Admiral. This Head, he had a lot of power.

"Why have you come?" The Head was old, much older than seemed possible by human standards, and his yellow eyes turned almost green with malice. It was as if he thought that they were declaring attack on them; the six of them had done nothing wrong, right? Except perhaps invade the underground of the Nyerians. But no, they had been invited; Eren wouldn't have opened the door otherwise.

Jim took the initiative to speak first, bowing, "I am James Tiberius Kirk, and we," he motioned to the rest of the landing party, "represent the United Federation of Planets. We have come to offer you a proposition, to join the Federation. We can supply-"

"James Tiberius Kirk." The Head's voice was deep, and loud. It boomed throughout the room, and Jim found himself slightly frightened of the old man. "I have no interest in your Federation. I must ask you to leave." If spoken differently, his words could have seemed almost polite, but when he spoke them, a shiver ran down Jim's spine. He could feel the anger in the Head's tone.

Jim was a bit taken aback. "Sir, with all due respect-" He started, blinking. He wasn't really surprised when he was interrupted again, though.

"With all due respect, please leave, Mister Kirk." The man told him. "We do not request aid, or anything else, from the Federation."

Things seemed a little out of place. Hadn't Spock told Jim that they were usually accommodating? These Nerynians were anything _but _accommodating. "Is there any particular reason that you don't wish anything from the Federation?" Jim asked then, giving the Council an inquiring, raised eyebrow. He would have chuckled at himself, if the circumstances had been slightly different, he was reminding himself of his first officer.

The Head seemed dangerously close to angry. The others did, too, and they weren't as good at covering that anger. "I do not feel that we need to explain _anything _to you Mister Kirk, or your…friends. We simply do not wish to be a part of any empire, or organization, or whatever you may call your Federation." There was no quiver in his voice, nothing to betray his fury.

"Come on, Jim…let's just leave…" McCoy touched his arm gently, urging him to be tactful. But Jim Kirk was not tactful.

"Do you have something against the Federation?" Jim asked indignantly. "We only want to provide help, or services, or whatever the hell you may think you need!" Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized this wasn't the best course of action. But that was way back in his mind, right next to everything else he learned at the Academy. When he was riled up, logic didn't stand a chance.

"James Kirk!" The man bellowed. The others in the council stood as he did so, not in the least frightened; more so, they seemed just as angry. Jim wasn't sure why, it wasn't as if he had really done anything wrong. He was just trying to help them, for fuck's sake!

"Nice going, Jim," McCoy sighed. The security detail groaned a little, Spock's expression didn't really change. Actually, he would have been more surprised if it had. Quickly, he determined he'd find a way to get Spock to show feeling, in a nicer way than month previous, hopefully not ending up in him getting choked.

"Detain them." The Head cried. Suddenly, guards sprouted seemingly from nowhere, grabbed at all of them. Kirk fought, kicked, bit, scratched, did whatever he could to break from their grasps, but the Nerynians were too strong. Spock watched, wanted to help his captain, but stopped himself. It would have been illogical to try and fight them off; even if he was able to beat thirty of them, who was to say that thirty more wouldn't show up?

* * *

Jim woke up alone, to a soft dripping noise and wet ground underneath him. His clothes were damp, he realized, disgusted. Sitting up, he looked around, trying to process where he was. It looked like a kind of cell, but it was too bare to even be called that. A cot sat in the dark corner to his right, stone met him everywhere else. He noticed that a bit of light poured in from the door, he wanted to get up and inspect the small opening near the top of it, but his body ached. Somewhere along the way to…wherever he was…the Nerynians had knocked him out. He reached a hand to the back of his aching neck and rubbed there.

"Yeah, Spock. Real accommodating." Jim muttered sardonically. He wished the Vulcan was with him; no matter what he said, the first officer was pretty OK company. Even if he had to always be right, and even if he analyzed just about every little thing – OK, maybe Bones, instead. Then again, if it were Bones, he would probably just bitch and complain at Jim. Perhaps the captain was better off by himself. It was a lonely and depressing thought that vanished at the next sound.

"Captain." The noise came from his right, but there was only a wall there. He didn't need to entertain himself with the notion that the wall was speaking, he would know that voice from anywhere.

"Spock?" He stood and walked over to the wall. "Are you there? Are you OK?" Of course he was there, and of course he was fine. Spock was talking to him, right? He realized at that moment, that the half-Vulcan was very important to him, and no matter what he had previously thought, he wouldn't give up his first officer for anyone, not even the wonderful, joyful Bones.

"I am…adequate. Are you in pain?" Just like him to be more worried about his captain than his own well-being. But it was to be expected. Spock was super-human, no, super-Vulcan. Even though he was weighed down by his human half, he was amazing.

"I'm fine…the others?" Jim responded wearily, sincerely hoping that they were at least within hearing and shouting range. Hoping that they were alive, really, more than anything. If he had lost Bones and the three lieutenants because he couldn't shut his mouth, well…he'd never forgive himself.

"Jim," another familiar voice, this one from his left. A thousand breaths of relief came from him. He couldn't hold back the smile on his lips, not that anyone was there to see it. If anyone had been, they would have been instantly charmed. (Of course, unless that person was Uhura; for some reason, she was able to resist his classic good looks and boyish charm.)

"Bones, phew." He wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead in a dramatic motion. He slid down against the wall, sitting down in a rather suspicious pool of water. Some kind of moldy smell drifted up from it, and he'd be damned if he wasn't thoroughly revolted, but he was so relieved that he realized how much tension he'd been holding in. He was exhausted.

"Tamura here."

"Grey and Perry, too." The lieutenants. Thank God. Or whatever was out there.

"Alright, now that we're all accounted for…" Jim folded his arms, even though there was no one to see him. It was almost as if he did things for himself more than others. Who would have thought? "What happened to 'accommodating', Spock?" he asked. He voice was tinged with a bit of accusation, but thoroughly drowned in sarcasm.

"I apologize, Captain, but past informati-"

"This just goes to show us," McCoy snapped. "Computers can't know everything. Although…" he paused. "This could have been avoided if Jim could learn how to keep his mouth _shut._" His tone was accusing, but James Kirk knew that his friend meant no harm. Bones had to keep the part of the cynical, gruff doctor well-played. He hadn't let his captain down yet.

"Sorry, Bones. I try." He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly. It felt as if he tried to breathe normally, his throat would close up and he would suffocate. Perhaps it was the smell – perhaps the situation. Probably the latter, but he wouldn't admit that he was scared aloud, it would be bad for crew morale. Knowing the Half-Vulcan, though, Spock could probably _feel _Jim's worry/sadness/guilt/anger at himself. He was, after all, a telepath, and perhaps he was feeling through the wall for Jim's mind. That thought comforted him a little, and he relaxed a little bit more.

"Sure you do," Bones grumbled back.

"So, any idea where we are? The dungeon, perhaps?" Jim asked, eyes still closed, still focusing on the fact that he was not alone, that he had his friends and crewmen with him. He could almost feel Spock's comforting touch in his mind. Like a comforting hug from a friend after a long cry, it gave him something to hold onto.

"They have stolen our tricorders, utility belts, and phasers. There is no way to know," Spock responded after the slightest hesitation. He acted like it was his fault, something he should be sorry for, but it wasn't, Jim knew that. It was all his fault. His big, stupid mouth's fault, actually.

"Lovely." McCoy sighed. "This is perfect." Jim had to agree with his friend's sarcasm. The situation couldn't have been much worse. No way to communicate with the ship, no way to bust from underground. He'd have to be the hero of the saga some other way. He had confidence.

"Come on, Bones, we've been in tighter spots. Remember when Earth was gonna be destroyed and-"

"Yes, I remember, Jim, it was only a few months ago." Leonard's voice was thick with weariness. Jim wondered if his older friend (older by six years, that ancient thing) was really tired, like he was, or just sounded that way through the wall, but he had to imagine he was exhausted, too. The situation itself was exhausting; even his first officer was probably worn out, but Jim knew he'd never admit it. Ever.

Suddenly, they all fell silent. A different set of footsteps – one's that didn't belong to the Starfleet regulation boots – sped down the corridor. Briefly, Jim was filled with a slight hope that they had come to release them, but that would have been too easy. No, it was for another reason. He waited for a long time; the seconds seem to drag on as the partially silent mystery figure paced around. Finally, after what seemed like way too much time, a face appeared in the small opening in the door. The girl from before, it looked like, her dark tattoos infinitely more beautiful than the others.

Jim seemed to be the person she was looking for because she gasped once and leaned back before Jim heard jingling, and the door slid to the side quickly, fluidly. Light poured in, drowning the room, casting out even the little shadows. He rubbed his adjusting eyes and looked up at the girl. For some reason, there was so much more to appreciate about her, even though she'd been the one to open to door from the staircase, too. "Eren," he whispered, remembering her name through all the other numbness he was suddenly feeling from the light and the hope of the being rescued. She smiled at him softly, and they stared at each other for a long moment, not really knowing what to say. "Why are you here?" He managed finally, using the wall for support and pushing himself up from the questionable ground.

"Jim? Who are you talking to?" McCoy's voice was less muffled, less tired sounding with the door open, but he didn't sound any younger, any happier. If anything, he seemed a tad pissed that Jim hadn't run around screaming who it was as soon as the door opened.

For a long moment, Jim didn't answer, just looked at Eren, wondering why she was here and what she wanted. "It's Eren," He told him. "The girl from before." Nobody else said or asked anything, so he didn't feel the need to say any more, not that he really would have been able to. He had no idea why she was here, but he was going to get some answers. "Why are we here?" he asked the Nerynian. She avoided his eyes, looking down, up, anywhere but his eyes. She seemed ashamed for some reason. Eren shook her head after a bit, her long, dark green hair swinging with her.

"I…cannot say." Finally, she was able to look at him, and he felt almost entranced by her brown eyes. They were so unlike any other brown eyes he'd seen before. They weren't plain, or ugly, but seemed warm and welcoming. He thought again of his first officer, his brown eyes. They were cold sometimes, collecting, and after the incident with Nero, seemed just plain sad, but they never seemed as kind as Eren's. He almost felt like he could just sit there and stare at her.

He shook his head. _Fuck, am I getting sentimental? _It was unlike Jim Kirk to grow attached to anything but a piece of ass, but somehow, unknowingly, he'd done it. And it actually wasn't all that horrible. "What do you mean? Why are you here, then? Can you tell me that?" He wanted to sound stern, but he couldn't manage it. He couldn't sound the least bit brash to Eren. That part he didn't like. It was interfering with his place as Captain. If he couldn't keep things on a leash, be able to change variables, what kind of starship captain was he? Did he even deserve the _Enterprise_ if he couldn't do so much as sound harsh to a woman. A very beautiful woman, that is, but a woman nonetheless.

"Head Council member Toulin wishes to speak with you." She responded, doing quite a good job at avoiding his previous question with her real reason for showing up. He was slightly let down, but it was nothing he didn't expect. He thought for a moment about who Toulin might be, but he didn't have to think for very long. The old guy with the big temper. The one he had dubbed in his mind as 'The Head'.

"Just me? What about my crew?" He really didn't want to leave them here, in the dark and wet cells. While she was silent, he thought a bit about how technologically challenged the Nerynians seemed. Instead of force fields to keep their 'prisoners' in, they used stone doors. They used fire, torches, instead of fluorescent lighting. They're probably wasn't an atom of Krypton – Neon in their underground. The security was all Nerynian, too. There were no anti-locks, no comm pads, no security encryptions or voice/eye/fingerprint recognition anywhere.

"They will stay here." She told him finally. It had seemed as if she had been mulling over it, contemplating whether or not to bring them, but decided that it was against her, or the Neryn's, best interest. But no, he refused to leave his friends down here.

"I cannot allow that," He told her. He was going to have to be pulled by his ears before leaving his crew. It might have been a rather stupid move, deliberately disagreeing with Eren, but it was a noble one. But she seemed to be an unmoving stone. Her eyes, though soft and warm, inviting, were also a bit narrowed. It seemed like she wasn't going to let his friends go with them regardless of what Kirk told her. He could sweep her off her feet, kiss her passionately, do everything in his power as a cocky bastard, and it still wouldn't be enough. For some reason, that was a little hot. "Fine, but don't think I'm leaving them indefinitely." He crossed his arms, and she raised a slender, dark eyebrow at him. The resemblance to a certain Half-Vulcan was rather uncanny in the strange lighting.

"I would never, Mister Kirk," She told him, her tone slightly sly. She motioned towards the outside of the cell, and wearily, he walked out. He looked down both ways, noting the other cells, looking at the layout, just in case he had to break them all out. Do something super-cool, maybe use some explosives.

"Jim, call me Jim." He turned back to her, smirking, and he was pretty positive he heard McCoy sighing harshly before he followed her from the corridor.

* * *

The Council chamber hadn't really changed at all, not that he expected it to, but he was struck with just a bit of déjà vu. The scene was exactly the same as before, minus five people. The council sat behind the long table, hands folded in front of them, expressions passive. Perhaps they had calmed down a bit after the whole yelling match earlier.

The doors behind him shut loudly, and he was only slightly startled. He flinched a little, but didn't turn from the Head's eyes. If Toulin wanted a staring contest, well, no one beat Jim Kirk in staring contests (except for Spock and Chekov, the bastards). He was fully prepared to start snapping at them to get on with it when the Head stood.

"Jim Kirk," he said, strained formality in his tone. "You have been called here to discuss terms for release." His entire body was stiffened, whether with anger or old age Jim wasn't sure. He didn't really care, either. It wasn't important. What he did notice that was slightly important, was the rest of the Council. They sat back, anger evident on their faces. If a fight broke out, he was fucked.

"Excuse me? I'm still not sure why my crew was imprisoned in the first place." He told them, unable to let go of his confident tone, although he didn't feel all that confident at the moment. If anything, he was a bit scared. He was alone, without his phaser or communicator, surrounded by six angry Nerynians and an infinite number of hiding guards. He was good at fighting, but he wasn't that good at fighting.

"Insolence," the Head grumbled. "Like a child, you refused to listen to us. We told you that we-"

"And like a child, as soon as you didn't get your way, you threw a tantrum." Jim replied, anger coursing through his veins rather than fright now. If the Nerynians could use similes, so could he. He would turn any of their words back on them, it was something he'd always been good at. Toulin blinked a few times, probably surprised that Jim had the audacity to interrupt him. The dude obviously wasn't used to other people in power, or even people who couldn't stand authority figures. "I don't believe that we did anything wrong. The Federation told us to come here, extend a hand to you; it was our _mission_. A Starfleet officer doesn't give up on a mission just because the planet's Head is stubborn."

"You seem to know a lot about being stubborn, Jim Kirk." Toulin's eyes narrowed. "If I am as stubborn as you say, then you will know that no matter what you say I will not change my mind." He was right about that, Jim conceded. He was going to have to come up with other ways to get through Neryn's thick skull. He'd find a way. He always did.

"So, back to the reason of our being here. You wanted to release us?" Jim tried acting nonchalant, but it was hard when everything rested on the whims and feelings of an angry alien.

"I do not wish to," Toulin admitted. "I don't know that you deserve to be. But it would be very bad to imprison six Federation officers. We do not wish to join the Federation, but we do not wish to fight them, either." He blinked, slowly, before continuing. "We just want to be alone." His words were almost sad, a complete contrast to everything else he'd said since Kirk met him.

"But _why?_ Can't you just give me one good reason?" Jim leaned forward a little with the intensity of his statement. If these Nerynians _did_ have a good reason, he'd leave, take his crew and report back to the Admirals that Neryn was not ready for such a connection with the Federation. He was not going to leave without any information though, unless they agreed to join.

Sighs resonated throughout the room, ranging from harsh to soft, from elders to youths. If he was getting through to these aliens, they had a weird way of showing it. "Kirk," Toulin started. Jim was beginning to wonder if the others _could _talk. "Neryn has been alone for as long as we remember, and it's kept us safe. We have not one war on record, even within our own race. Our species _thrives _because it is alone."

That wasn't a good reason. "You think that joining with the Federation will mean war? Do you think that just because you become a part of something else, you'll lose your own people – history – culture?" Perhaps McCoy had been right earlier, maybe these Nerynians were _not _intelligent. Their way of thinking held no precedents, no reasons, they came up with something, and that was that. Nothing else was to be accepted. Maybe the Federation wouldn't actually want Neryn if they knew that.

"It's all we know, James Kirk." Finally, another voice, something other than the demanding, harsh voice of Toulin. It was a younger male, pale green skin, dark black hair, striking blue eyes. He seemed the least angry of the group at any given time, perhaps more understanding. Obviously, he had minimal power compared to the rest of the Council, because they looked a tad alarmed that he spoke, but apparently he'd also said something right, because Toulin nodded slowly.

"Orin is correct. Besides, if we are fine with the way that we are, why change anything?" Suddenly, everything seemed to make more sense to Jim. If that was the way that they thought about everything, no wonder they didn't have any technological advances. But no – he scrunched his eyebrows – the hologram of the capital.

"Toulin, above ground…there is a hologram of a city. No offense, but it doesn't seem that you have to technology for such a feat, do you know what's going on?" Jim really didn't mean any offense, and hoped that the Council wouldn't take any. He couldn't afford for them to get angry again. Besides, what other way could he have worded it?

The Head sighed again. There had been a lot of sighing in that room lately. "Yes, we know of it. Why it is there, we do not know. It's been there as long as we can remember, as far back as our recorded history goes." That was strange. It couldn't have been there with the planet, so perhaps the early Nerynians had created it, and then, for some reason, regressed? That didn't make much sense, either.

"And you've just been underground for as long as you can remember?" Jim asked, scrunching his eyebrows together. It just didn't make any sense. A species didn't just appear underground. They had to have gone underground themselves at some point. "There's nothing to support _any _theories?"

"We are safe, unharmed, what need is there for theories?" As Toulin spoke, the others in the Council nodded. They were pretty adamant about staying stationary, perhaps it was laziness. Well, probably not, but one could never tell.

"You aren't even the least bit curious about your history? About why you are the way you are? About who you are?" Jim was a little confused; it was basic nature for one to wonder. Did they never take the time to do so? Did they just not care? He was curious as to how it was possible, as it's difficult to understand something so different from yourself.

They all looked at each other. "No," Toulin said simply. "It was never that important." That made Kirk slightly angry. His anger, fright, all the negative emotions that had been washed out of him were starting to come back. How could a race not be interested in itself? Were they really _so _satisfied with the present, so enthralled in it, that nothing else mattered? That wasn't right. Something had to be done about their outlook. If he had to be the one to do it, so be it. He'd do whatever he could to tear them from the present.

But it couldn't be there, with only himself. He needed a bit of time to think about it.

"Are you going to release us, or not?" Jim crossed his arms across his chest, tried his best to look stern. It really did ride on the whims of six people (or one, really, Toulin), so there was nothing he could do about it except hope. He crossed his finger, stared at each of them equally.

"Yes, you may take your crew and leave." Toulin conceded. "I do not expect to see you back." Oh, Jim Kirk would most certainly be back. He never left anything unfinished.

* * *

"Captain, while we were incarcerated, I was thinking," Back on the _Enterprise,_ Kirk in his command chair, they were discussing tactics. Jim had explained to them that something _had _to be done. There was no way he was going to leave things as they were. Bones didn't seem too enthralled about the situation, but he couldn't exactly argue with Jim over it, he was, after all, the captain, and the highest ranking officer on the ship.

"Not much of a surprise there, Spock. What's up?" The first officer folded his arms behind his back as Kirk looked up at him. Really, Spock had been slightly surprised the captain had managed to get them out of there. If anything, he and McCoy both believed that he would open his mouth again and they'd end up being stuck there until another ship came and got them. James Kirk being diplomatic and normal was just unnatural.

"As you noticed, the Nerynians are very basic as far as technology goes." He paused, watched Jim nod, and continued. He was sure to talk simply, as his captain would not understand the scientific terms, he was sure. "I am sure that you recall when we were scanned, just before the staircase appeared. How would such a primitive culture be able to scan us?" He wasn't asking that, but Jim knew what he was saying.

"It was someone else." Jim looked down at his hands, narrowed his eyes slightly. It was all too confusing. Nothing made any sense. At all. If someone else was scanning them, then who was it? Why hadn't the tricorders picked up their life signs? Were they in orbit around Neryn, hidden from the _Enterprise_? Why would another starship be in orbit? Why would they be scanning six Starfleet officers?

"Precisely." It appeared that though Spock agreed with him, he too wasn't sure of how these other beings had actually accomplished scanning them without the _Enterprise_ knowing, but they were going to have to figure it out.

"Should we tell Neryn? Our theory?" Regardless of what Spock replied, he knew it wasn't a good idea. Even if they were the types to enjoy theorizing, and moving into the future, it'd be a bad idea.

"No," Spock shook his head. "I believe we should look further into it." They mutually agreed, and Kirk looked forward to the view screen. Though they weren't in orbit any longer, Neryn was still huge, unable to fit fully into the screen.

"Alright, we will. For now, though, since the speculative other beings aren't harmful, let's focus on Neryn. We need to find a way to talk them into joining the Federation."

"Jim, they have already decided that they aren't going to." The first officer seemed slightly confused at his captain's idea. No one could force a planet to become part of the Federation.

"Right, and I've already decided I'm only dating women, but things, and people, change." Spock stiffened a little, didn't look at his captain. "That was a joke, Spock; you know what, never mind. Let's just…find a way to get this over with." They sat in silence for a few moments, the idle chatter of the bridge and soft beeps from the panels were the only sources of noise.

Really, Jim had no idea how he was going to accomplish this. The Nerynians were _stubborn. _More so than even he. Maybe. And if Spock sounded slightly discomforted by the scenario, then Jim was really scared, but he had to try. He had to help them get their heads from their asses. He had to make them see that there was more to life than safety, and the present, than living underground and never experiencing a thing. Damn technology, but at least let them breathe fresh air! For children to never know the sunlight, for adults to never know the feeling of a cool breeze, teenagers to never feel the exhilaration of skinny dipping! So, perhaps the last thing was more of his fixation, but to _deny_ Nerynians those experiences bordered on abuse, neglect, genocide! The genocide of their childhoods, their happiness!

So even if Jim didn't know how he was going to do it, he was going to find a way.

"Spock, I suppose you wouldn't consider the Nerynian's a logic based society." He had an idea. Maybe it would work. Hopefully, anyway.

"Not at all, Captain." Spock seemed as if he had never been so sure of anything in his life. His dark brown eyes flashed with seeming disappointment. He probably was, for such a basic species, culture, to live in 2259. He probably felt completely superior to them, and even Jim would have to agree with that. He even conceded to the fact that Spock was superior to him. He was stronger, and smarter, everything, really. He felt rather self-conscience around him.

"My name is Jim. Now then, how do we counter an illogical species? Why, Mr. Spock, I believe we should try some of your good ole' fashioned logic." He grinned widely, eyes sparkling. If his idea worked, he'd win yet another battle. Perhaps, when the Nerynians recognized how dumb they were, he'd become some kind of hero. It could happen.

"What do you suggest, Jim?" Spock, if it were at all possible, seemed a little excited. Probably because, finally he was using logic! And logic was Spock's specialty.

"I was hoping you'd have a good idea. I'm sure your big, Vulcan brain is full of them!" Jim exclaimed, spinning in his chair like a child. "We've so got this." He really was assured. He believed in Spock fully, nothing could breach that trust. Spock was fucking smart, and that was that. What did Vulcans say, 'what is, is'? Something like that.

"Captain, I am truly honored by your trust in me, but…" He stopped when he saw that Jim was paying absolutely no attention to him, and walked back to his station.

* * *

The idea was simple. If they were not going to listen to Kirk's logic, they were going to have to experience it in another way, perhaps go so far as to need the Federation. They could offer the Nerynian's technology, schooling, but they were far too primitive and inactive to realize the need for such things. They were, in Dr. McCoy's words, just too damn stubborn.

There was no real way to hail the Nerynians, so they were going to have to risk going underground again. Jim didn't really enjoy the idea, but it was the only logical one left. Spock said it was, so it was. So they began the trek across the surface, were granted access underground, and made their way towards the Council chamber.

The Council was not altogether thrilled to see the captain and first officer, but begrudgingly, they let them speak. Toulin was sure that no matter what they said, he would never change his mind. He did not _want_ other planets interfering with their lives. It was not necessary.

"Toulin," Jim started, eyes pleading. "I know you don't wanna listen to us, but you have to. This entire time, we've been talking about what would happen if you joined the Federation, but what about what happens if you _don't?" _He was leaning forward a little, and he felt Spock's hand on his arm. He straightened his posture, narrowed his eyes. "You say you've never experienced war, but that isn't to say you never will."

"Is this a threat, James Kirk?" Toulin seemed ready to stand, ready to imprison them again, but Kirk wasn't going to give him the pleasure.

"No," He growled back. "You can consider it a promise, though. Eventually, someone will want to take over this planet, it could be the Klingons, the Romulans, some planet out there set on devastation and murder. How will you protect yourself? You have no technology, no weapons, no fleet. How do you expect to withstand their rampages?" Spock was rather pleased with the way Jim was handling the situation. He actually sounded more like a diplomat than a soldier for once, sounded more like a reasoning man than a child. While Jim often acted like a child, he did not often act like an adult, and it was…nice to see him in such form.

"How do you presume they would find us? We are underground! They cannot see us." The Head chuckled a little, along with the others in the Council. To them, Jim Kirk sounded like an idiot. Little did they know, he was the only genius-level repeat offender in Iowa. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

"Did you know that we found you? We have instruments, Toulin, that enable us to read life-signs and where they come from. We can know, with just a look at our tricorders, that there is an entire civilization down here." At these words, the Council looked horror-stricken. The prospect of ever being found was new to them, something they'd never thought of.

"Is that…possible, that someone will come and conquer us?" Toulin looked as scared as ever, yellow eyes unnervingly clear. Peace was a simple prospect to him, and if that peace were ever disturbed, his whole life would be in complete ruins. How would he go on without the peace the Nerynians had?

"It's very possible. No, screw impossible, eventually, it will happen." Jim pointed at the floor to punctuate his statement. "It could happen today, tomorrow, next month, next year, but it will happen." Perhaps he was exaggerating slightly, but who could blame him? Truthfully, they could be overtaken, quite easily. They had no ways of defending themselves.

"Very well, James Kirk, you have made your point. I will…converse with the others about this, and we will come to a conclusion about your Federation." Jim nodded, turned around, and left the room without another word, leaving the Council to discuss their options. As soon as he left, though, he turned to Spock and gripped him by the shoulders.

"I did it!" he exclaimed softly. "Ahem, _we _did it." He amended after a moment. For a short moment, he wanted to tug the half-Vulcan into a death grip of his own, hugging him tightly with excitement, but he held himself back, and he was sure that his first officer was happy for it.

"They have not come about with a decision yet," Spock told him, but even he felt that it was a done deal. The Nerynians were too frightened to be on their own any longer.

"Oh, they've already decided, I could see it in Toulin's eyes. He's scared shitless. Oh, if he actually knew what the Klingon's were like! He'd be terrified! I wonder if he'd ask to bring his people to Earth for protection." Jim danced around a little, beaming. He couldn't remember being that happy in a long time.

"I doubt that very much, Jim." Spock lowered his head in a slight nod. The Nerynians would never have the technology to man millions of them to Earth, and Earth would never be big enough to hold them.

After a long while more of Kirk dancing wildly, laughing and cheering jubilantly but lowly, the doors opened, and they were allowed back in. The lighting in the room seemed different to him, suddenly; the room itself seemed less…depressing. The six people in front of him looked more comforting and inviting. The place just seemed friendlier.

"We have thought about it, Mister Kirk, and have come to the conclusion that…we w_ill_ join your Federation of Planets. It seems like…" he paused, looked for the right word, "the only logical thing to do." Spock raised his eyebrow slightly and Jim couldn't repress his laugh. "Tell us what we need to do, and we will help you to the best of our abilities."

* * *

"Starfleet better give me a fucking medal for all the work I did on Neryn." Jim said cheerily, taking a bite of his apple. "Those bitches were _stubborn_." He sat with McCoy at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco, waiting to speak with Admiral Brooks to discuss relations with Neryn, ways to get technology and plain old _help _to them. They sure as hell needed it.

"I don't think you realize the irony in your statement, Jim." Bones sighed, leaning back against the wall. They'd been there for an hour, and as he had minimal time on Earth, he wanted to visit Joanna before he had to get back on the _Enterprise. _

Jim looked at him, smiled, and took about bite of his apple. "Bones, you're probably nicest person I know." He tossed the core of his apple in a wastebasket and leaned over, breathing in his ear. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"Fuck off." McCoy laughed, swatting his friend away. Yeah, Jim Kirk was a child, but he was fucking fun to hang around.

And in tough situations, he proved to be pretty useful.

* * *

Thanks for reading, guys! Let me know what you thought :)

I'm working on a sequel, but who knows how long that will take. Oh well, thanks anyway, for reading.


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